


Shedding

by KieraElieson



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit | Janus Sanders-centric, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Sickfic, Temporary Blindness, explicit descriptions of skin problems, shedding problems, virgil and janus are very sweet to one another
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieraElieson/pseuds/KieraElieson
Summary: Janus has dealt with his shedding alone for a while now, being accepted by the light sides shouldn't change anything.The fact that the shed hasn't gone so well for a while shouldn't change anything either. And neither should the fact that this shed was coming on too fast and strong. He'd be fine alone.Except... maybe he really would like help. And... ok, maybe he does need help.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 35
Kudos: 350





	Shedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parallelmonsoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parallelmonsoon/gifts).



Janus slumped down into the chair at the table, leaning over his tea and propping his head up by leaning his forehead against his hands. He was just so  _ tired _ . And no one else was in the kitchen to see his momentary weakness. 

He rocked his head back and forth slowly, breathing in the warm steam. His skin itched, and it felt better scrubbing it against his hands slowly. Janus suddenly froze.

“What day is it?” He asked nobody, looking around for a calendar. 

It was May 3rd. Of course it was. He’d seen the calendar before, but it wasn’t the same calendar he was used to, the one with dates circled that  _ he  _ found important. Like when his shed might happen. No wonder his appetite had been waning. 

Janus sighed. He hated this. Every time this came he hated it. Well, there were those few years when he had a good system worked out with Virgil, but when he left that obviously couldn’t continue. And he wouldn’t bother him now. Virgil had his own life now. A life separate from Janus. And Janus had no right to drag him back solely for his own comfort. 

He needed to get things ready. Get everything into his room and put where he could reach it without tripping over anything. 

He thought carefully, running over the mental checklist, not realizing he was again scrubbing at his forehead until he felt the unmistakable slide of skin over skin, stretching less, and feeling more dry, more brittle, ready to crack. He had to stop. It wasn’t ready yet, and if he started picking at it early the new skin would be exposed before it thickened, perhaps even before it had fully separated from the old skin, and it would hurt. 

He started gathering things he would need, trying to keep enough attention on the task that he wouldn’t be idly scratching and scrubbing at his scales. 

  * •^*^••



The next morning he woke up exhausted. He blinked up at the ceiling for a few minutes, finally realizing that it wasn’t just his eyes unfocused from sleep, he was starting to lose his sight. He let out a quiet groan, rolling over in hopes of a little more sleep before he had to face the day. 

But a knock on his door ruined that pretty quickly. 

“Janus? Are you coming?” Patton asked. 

“For what?” Janus said grumpily. 

“We were going to surprise Roman today. I mean, I get it if you don’t want to…”

That was today. Why today? Couldn’t it have been a week or two more? Or yesterday? 

Janus groaned into his pillow. “I’m coming. I just forgot about it. Let me get dressed.”

“Ok! I’ll go ahead and start breakfast.”

Janus was strongly tempted to groan a third time, but instead he pushed himself up, grimacing at the awkward feeling of skin sliding over skin as he moved. It felt tight, and his hands curved into claws, wanting to scratch it and pull it and  _ get it off!  _

Janus very deliberately took a slow breath and put his gloves on. 

He got dressed carefully, trying not to rub against his scales too much. He looked in the mirror, frowning at his blurry reflection. It wasn’t that bad yet. He’d be able to make it through one day. He pulled up a disguise of himself, so that as his eyes clouded, and in case of any skin beginning to peel, it wouldn’t be noticed. 

He opened the door to his room, and the small, hushed voices, the smell of food, the dimmed lights, they assailed him as if it were the middle of the day, everyone partying already. He allowed himself a few seconds to adjust before putting on a small smile and walking out to meet them. 

“Hey, Janus!” Patton said quietly and cheerfully, already making pancakes shaped like crowns. 

Logan was… frosting the pancakes? Decorating them with something that certainly looked like frosting. 

Virgil had been doing something, but the minute Janus walked in he turned away, fiddling with his headphones. 

Janus managed a smile, as if nothing was wrong and he was merely curious and eager to help. “What can I do?”

“We tend to become too loud during the preparation for these kinds of surprises,” Logan said, frowning down at the pancakes in concentration. “We would greatly appreciate if you could ensure that Roman does not wake up until we’ve prepared.”

Patton grinned and nodded. “Thanks for helping, Janus!”

Of all the jobs they could give him, Janus was especially glad for this one. He went into the hallway, pulling up an invisible wall. No sound, no light, and no person would pass that wall from the other side until he let it down. He slid down the wall slowly, crossing his arms over his chest.

He’d intended only to rest, but soon he was dozing off, only just aware enough to keep the wall up. 

He blinked quickly, picking his head up when he heard a doorknob turning. He was just in time to lock eyes with Roman. 

Roman looked him up and down, as if he wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or annoyed. “Deceit.”

Janus let the wall start dissolving, hooping that enough time had passed. He stood quickly, too quickly, and barely masked the grimace. “Roman.”

“What… were you doing?”

A wave of annoyance swept over Janus, prickling in his chest and making him feel too warm in a rather unpleasant way. “Quite frankly, that’s none of your business.”

Roman’s face, as far as Janus could see, showed him siding with annoyance. “I see.” He turned away, walking through the remnant of the wall without seeing it. 

Janus inwardly groaned. Yet another reason he hated this time. He  _ really  _ didn’t need to deal with people hating him right now.  _ Especially  _ if they found out… a sudden image of Roman barging in when Janus was blind and helpless almost brought tears to his eyes, but he shoved it away. Anxiety was Virgil’s problem anyway. He’d just be a bit snappish, careful not to overdo, and they wouldn’t want to be near him. It’d be fine. 

“There you are!” He heard Patton said cheerfully, and Janus knew he’d have to make it back out there. 

“What’s all this?” Roman asked, his voice clearly indicating that he was both properly surprised and very happy. 

Janus nearly stumbled on the first step, his joints stiff and sore, but by the time he’d made it down the stairs he was walking normally, a small, pleased smirk on his face. 

Breakfast passed in a bit of a blur. He’d tried one bite, but the almost sickly sweetness of the frosting turned his stomach, and the bite of pancake seemed to stick in his throat. He’d still cut up the rest of it, shuffling it around to look as if he’d eaten more, but he didn’t eat anything else. 

There was animated chatter all around him, mostly focusing on Roman, which was fine. He’d been informed that the lights tended to have ‘special days’ sometimes for each of them, and this was simply chance to happen now. 

He felt like he was being watched, though. And he couldn’t quite see enough to tell more than the general direction of where the other sides were looking, so he couldn’t disprove the sensation. It grated, the prickling annoyance in his chest growing, making his fingers itch and want to grab whatever was threatening him and squeeze it. To bite, and not let go. 

“Janus?” Patton said, and he suddenly realized that he must have missed something important. The feeling of  _ threat  _ and  _ danger  _ increased. 

“I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Oh, that’s fine!” Patton said with a smile. “I was just wondering if you were going to come to the play with us.”

“The play?” Janus asked, wishing he’d paid more attention. 

“Yes,” Logan said, his voice even and non-threatening. “On Roman’s days we frequently will attempt an improvised play. Perhaps with your attendance there will be more order and substance to it.”

A play… 

No. No, that was too much. Bright lights and loud noises and they’d be moving all around him. And he’d have to pay close attention and respond appropriately. 

But could he afford to say no? If he made Roman angry… no. He was thinking like Virgil. He could manage this. 

“I’m actually feeling rather tired. I didn’t sleep that well last night. And I’m sure Roman would rather I stay out of it.”

There was some kind of response to that, but he couldn’t see enough to read their faces and tell what kind of response. It didn’t seem to be bad. Or not entirely bad. 

Janus stood, keeping his face carefully even. “Have a good day, Roman.” 

He left, escaping to the safety of his own room. 

  * •^*^••



“Well, that was odd,” Roman said, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness. 

Virgil sighed. If he didn’t bring it up, no one would. “Did you two end up arguing earlier?”

“What? No! Of course not.” Roman crossed his arms. “He was the one being creepy and sleeping in the hallway.”

“He fell asleep?” Logan asked. 

“He really must be tired,” Patton said, getting a worried frown. “I wonder why he couldn’t sleep last night?”

Virgil just frowned. He wondered… well, that could wait. 

But late that evening, when he still hadn’t seen Janus any more, he pulled out the one box of old things he’d kept. Under his old hoodie, and some other old things he used to love, there was a calendar. Remus had made it, using pictures of them in their monstrous forms for each month. Virgil didn’t like looking at it. He’d left all that behind. But, ignoring the pictures, he looked at the dates, seeing the second week of May circled in yellow, with overlapping dotted circles over the first week and the third. 

It could still mean nothing. Cycles shifted over time. And Janus had clearly been managing on his own, so even if he was about to begin his shed, that didn’t mean that Virgil had to do anything about it. And it wasn’t like he was asking for help. 

But…

  * •^*^••



He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to be awake either, but it seemed he didn’t have a choice in that one. But he could damn well choose not to move an inch. 

So when someone knocked on his door, he spared a single movement to lock it, and proceeded to ignore them entirely. 

He drifted slowly back into sleep, but it was only a heavy doze, as if weights were on his eyelids and holding down his limbs. 

The itch started on his back, and he tried to move only slightly, to rub it against the bed, but it just made it worse, not better, and it spread, until all he could think was that he wanted  _ out!  _

Janus tried to hold it back, but soon he was rolling, back and forth, and rubbing against the sheets. 

But there was no out. His skin didn’t come completely off, and the suffocating feeling was just an illusion. It wouldn’t go away, because there was no way of satisfying it. 

And rubbing just made it itch more. The skin was loosening, separating, but it wasn’t going to come off yet. 

He rolled onto his side, where the snake half was up, and not touching anything, and he gripped his hands into tight fists, holding himself miserably rigid until the urge calmed somewhat. 

He ached, and wasn’t going to be able to sleep, despite feeling tired still. 

Time just dragged slowly. Achingly slowly. 

Until finally he knew he would have to do something about it. He opened his eyes, glad that he could still mostly see, just not details. 

He shifted carefully to the edge of the bed and slid off slowly, gradually putting the weight on his feet and trying not to wobble. Everything felt weak and shaky. It wasn’t right. This shed was coming on too fast. 

But hopefully that meant it would also be over fast. 

He managed to stumble into the bathroom and turn on the water, and then sank to the ground. He draped one arm over the side of the tub to gauge the water level and held the side of his face with the other. It was warm, as if he were getting a fever. 

He let out a long, groaning sigh, safe in his own bathroom where no one could hear him. 

The water gradually crept up his arm, until he judged it to be high enough, and fumbled for the knob to turn it off. 

He didn’t want to stand up. His capelet and shirt could be taken off while sitting, though, and he slowly tugged them off, trying to avoid scrubbing the fabric against his scales. But then he didn’t know what to do about his pants. And his mind wasn’t being very quick to offer ideas. 

He sat there for several minutes, staring at the blur of floor tiles and trying to think, before he realized he could just snap them away. 

Standing up was still a shaky, sore, and slow process, and getting into the tub and sitting down was even harder, since there was such a danger of slipping. But the warmth and the relief was so pleasant that he decided it had been worth it. 

He sank down into the water, letting it calm the itch under his skin. The warmth and the wet and the steam felt so good. He finally relaxed, his eyes slipping closed. 

  * \- -



He woke to nearly inhaling a full breath of water. Choking, spluttering and gagging as he tried to get the water out of his lungs. He flopped himself out of the tub, a loud whine slipping from his throat as he hit the ground, jostling his sore body and undoing the last of the good the bath had worked. 

Janus just laid there a minute, his mind quickly filling with wool again, as blurry and useless as his sight had become, until he managed to sweep enough of it away to snap himself into some pajamas, and attempt to crawl back to his bed. 

He knew he was acting pitifully, but there was no one there to see, and the whole thing would pass soon enough. The next day, or the day after that, his skin would crinkle, and rip, and he could work at getting it off finally, and once it was off he’d get back to normal in just a day or two. 

He couldn’t get up into the bed. He didn’t want to stand, and it was too high to crawl onto. He tugged at the blankets where they were hanging off the side, and pulled them underneath the bed with him, winding them into the comfiest nest he could manage while barely moving. And then he flopped down, falling back into a fitful sleep.

  * •^*^••



He had to do  _ something.  _ The itching, crawling  _ need  _ to be  _ out  _ was back in full force, and he just couldn’t stand it anymore. 

He shifted to put his back against one of the legs of the bed and scrubbed against it. For the first few times, it didn’t do any good, but then there was a satisfying ripping sound. And relief. 

He was exhausted, just from that, and drifted back into a doze. 

He woke again to the itch, the need to get it  _ off.  _ He scrubbed against the post again, back and forth, as much as he could stand to move, which wasn’t much. At first, there was some more ripping, but then nothing. It wasn’t moving anymore. It should. It should keep ripping until it came right off. 

But instead the rubbing just turned to a dull ache, like pressing on a bruise, and he slumped against the ground, panting with the effort just of doing that. 

He could barely see anymore, his vision mostly a blurry white when it was bright in the room, and black when it wasn’t. It was dark now. Not that it seemed to matter to his body, which wouldn’t let him rest until he did something about his scales. 

He crawled out from under the bed, feeling around. He’d left rough towels in here, both on the dressers and on the floor. He just had to get one. Just had to keep crawling and moving when all he wanted was to just sleep until the whole thing was over. Everything ached, and moving made it worse. But he just couldn’t seem to be still and rest until he’d done  _ something.  _

Finally his fingers touched the towel, and he unfolded it, scrubbing his arm and hand against it and feeling the dead skin peel off, finally bringing blessed relief to that claustrophobic itching feeling. 

He brought the towel back with him, laying on top of it under the bed and snapping his shirt off. He was going to try again for the scales on his back, but a wave of exhaustion swept over him again, dragging him down into a heavy doze. 

  * •^*^••



It’d been too long. Janus hadn’t come out of his room in nearly five days. Virgil couldn’t just keep ignoring things. Patton had been going to check on him at least twice a day, but the door was locked and he never answered. It had to be his shed. And he was dealing with it alone. 

Virgil still remembered the times Remus had wanted to help, always so eager, and too rough. He’d been bitten a number of times, and hurt Janus on accident, until it was unanimously decided that during sheds the most he would do is be an errand runner and try to keep quiet. 

So that left Janus alone. Alone ever since Virgil had left. Virgil’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably, and he walked down the hallway to stand in front of Janus’s door. 

Virgil knocked, but there was no answer. He sighed heavily, reaching into his pocket. If Janus had changed the lock, there was nothing more he could do. But the key slid in, and turned smoothly, as it had all the times before. 

Virgil slipped into the humid room, glad at least that Janus was managing that part pretty well, and shut and locked the door behind him. 

He turned around and was confused for a moment by the empty bed, but a defensive hiss quickly drew his attention to the underneath, where Janus was curled into a miserable-looking ball. 

“Shedding?” Virgil asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Janus just hissed at him again, but gradually his face morphed from angry to despondent. “... yeah.”

“Do you want to come out here? It would be more comfortable.”

When Janus didn’t answer for a minute, Virgil reached under to pull him out, and got a startled “No!”. He jerked back only just in time to avoid getting bitten. 

There was a shocked silence between them for a minute. 

“Sorry,” Janus said quietly. 

“No, I’m sorry, I cornered you out of nowhere. Can you still see?”

“Only a little. I-I shouldn’t have tried to bite you.”

Virgil felt a rush of emotion. It wasn’t pity, though it felt a bit similar. Just… realizing that it was still just as hard for Janus. And made much harder by having no one to help him anymore. He’d… he didn’t regret leaving, but he wished he’d thought more about it. Made plans for things like this. 

But mixed in with that guilt was a rush also of affection. They were like brothers. Closer than brothers, they were parts of the same person. And even more than  _ that,  _ they’d always been there for each other. Virgil wanted to be here again. He wanted to help Janus through this, and make it as comfortable as he could. 

He knelt down beside the bed. “It’s alright, Janus, really. Can I help you get out?”

Janus shifted forward, and Virgil could finally see his face. His eyes were clouded over almost entirely, and the skin over his scales was loose and cracked, beginning to come off. And he had such an expression of hopeful confusion. “Are you staying?”

“I am. I’m staying here with you for the rest of the shed.”

The pure hope and relief shining out of Janus’s face was nearly enough to make Virgil hate himself for ever having left. 

“Alright, hold my hand, and I’ll pull you out.”

Janus reached out, and Virgil gripped his hand, pulling him out from under the bed. Janus’s face scrunched in pain, and once he was out, Virgil felt his forehead, getting increasingly concerned at his temperature. 

“Is something going wrong?”

Janus didn’t respond for a few seconds, but then nodded. “I don’t know why.”

“Ok. Ok, we need to get someone else to help too. Like Patton, or Logan. They’d know what to do. I don’t… I don’t know how to help if you’re sick too.”

Janus curled in on himself, looking even smaller and more miserable. “I don’t want them to see me like this.”

“It’s a part of your life, Jan-“

“I can’t see!” Janus said, the weakness of his voice counteracted by his desperation. “I can barely move. I couldn’t… if they were to use this against me…”

“They wouldn’t do that, Jan.”

“I don’t know that.”

Virgil sighed. That was true. Janus didn’t know them well enough yet, just like Virgil hadn’t for a long time. “Just Patton then. You know Patton, he’d never take advantage of something like this.”

Instead of replying to Virgil directly, Janus reached for his arm, holding onto his wrist. “I’ll get better.”

Virgil relented. At least for now, it didn’t seem to be much worse than a fever. He’d try to help on his own. “Ok. Just me and you then.”

“Thanks.”

Virgil slowly moved, trailing his hands along Janus’s body, so that he could feel where he was. He got an arm under his shoulders, and another behind his knees. “Alright, let’s get you into bed. One, two, three.”

It felt just the same as it always had, Janus just a bit too heavy, and the quick lift, and wobble, and drop onto the mattress before he tipped them both over. Janus let out a little grunt as he was plopped down, but he was there now. 

“Do you want me to try and get some of the old skin off?” Virgil asked.

“Please.”

Virgil looked around for a few minutes before he saw the pile of towels and cloths. There was a bowl in the bathroom, and he filled it with hot water, and dropped a washcloth in. As he came back into the bedroom Janus snapped his shirt away, and Virgil was worried to see little scabs of dried blood around some of his patches of scales. It wasn’t the worst that had ever happened, but it wasn’t a good sign either. 

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Shoulder.”

Virgil wrung out the washcloth, “Ok, this is going to be hot.”

Janus nodded, and slightly flinched when the cloth touched him, but then relaxed into it. Virgil rubbed two fingers in little circles over the cloth, keeping the cloth covering the whole patch, just loosening things up a bit. When the cloth began to get cool he picked it up, and tugged at the dead skin gently. It was… even now it was a little gross if he really thought about it, so he just didn’t. It was helping Janus, that’s what mattered. 

The whole center was loose and brittle, and came off easily, but the edges all the way around were more stuck, as if it was having a hard time disconnecting from his human skin. Virgil tugged a little harder, and Janus let out a small hiss. 

He should’ve remembered, really he should’ve, but he was concentrating on the task at hand, and not all the rules they’d worked out together, and he tugged again. 

He deserved the bite, really, for keeping on pulling when it was hurting Janus. But clearly Janus didn’t think so. Barely a second after he’d bitten Virgil he was jerking his head back and pulling himself away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite you, it was an accident--!”

“Janus, it’s alright. I’m not barely hurt, and I hurt you first.” Virgil interrupted. He grabbed a clean washcloth and wrapped it around his hand. 

Janus looked very unconvinced. “It’s bleeding.”

“It is, but only a little. Let me have your hand. Feel. It’s really not bad.”

Janus feeling for the bite honestly hurt worse than actually getting bitten had, but really it wasn’t so bad. 

“I really think we should ask Patton to help. It just isn’t coming off right. And I’m sure he’ll know how to help.”

“I just  _ bit  _ you! There’s no way Patton would want to help me when I might bite him out of nowhere.”

Virgil squeezed Janus’s hand. “It wasn’t out of nowhere. I forgot the rules, that’s all. I’ll tell Patton the rules, and then he’ll be fine too.”

Janus frowned, looking away from Virgil’s direction, though it didn’t make much of a difference, since he couldn’t see either way. “He only barely accepted me.”

Virgil sighed. “Yeah… alright. But if I can’t help by tomorrow then we see if he can help, ok?”

Janus nodded slowly, looking as sad as a kid who’d been told they couldn’t have their birthday. 

Virgil reached out carefully, and set his hand against Janus’s scaled cheek. “I’ll really try to help you, you know.”

Janus let out a soft puff of air and leaned into Virgil’s hand. Virgil rubbed his thumb gently, in soft circles, and the old skin started to come off.

Janus’s eyes closed, and Virgil shifted him to a more comfortable position so he could sleep. 

  * •^*^••



Janus woke up feeling much calmer, wrapped in soft blankets, with the room warm and damp, and the faint sound of Virgil’s kind of music, as if he were nearby, but with headphones in. He also couldn’t see any light. He wasn’t sure whether it was merely dark in the room or if his sight was entirely gone. 

He reached up to feel his shoulder. The old skin was mostly gone, the new skin already hard over his scales, except around the edges. It had… he should tell Virgil, but it had been happening more and more, especially on his back, where he couldn’t reach. And it hurt, it hurt to pull at it when it wasn’t ready to come off. But increasingly it seemed to never be ready to come off, and the skin around the edges of his scales had hardened in little ridges. 

There was a slight rustling of fabric from the foot of his bed, and the mattress dipped as someone, probably Virgil, moved. 

“Morning. Feeling alright?” Virgil asked.

Janus smiled. With Virgil back, at least for now, he was feeling much better. “Yeah.” 

“I made a little scrubby, and I thought it might work for the edges.” 

Virgil touched his hand, and then set the scrubby in it. It was soft, perhaps too soft, but it might be good for starting. “Thank you. I’m… I’m not sure why you came back, but thank you.”

Virgil squeezed his hand. “Me too.”

The silence stretched out without becoming awkward, feeling pleasant in the way Janus hadn’t dared to hope might happen again. And then the itching started up again, making Janus fight not to squirm or scratch at himself.

“Here, let’s see if the scrubber works now,” Virgil said, moving up to Janus’s shoulder and moving the scrubber in gentle circles. The relief was almost immediate, and Janus shifted to laying on his side, relaxing completely while Virgil carefully scrubbed. 

“Does that feel good?” Virgil asked, amusement clear in his tone. 

Janus let out a long, happy hum. 

“What’s--” Virgil pushed gently, making him roll forward a bit. “What  _ happened _ to your back? It looks  _ awful _ .”

Janus tried to just shrug.

“No. No, I don’t believe for a second you didn’t know about this. What is it?”

Janus still hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was make Virgil feel like he’d caused it. Because he hadn’t. Janus wasn’t his responsibility, he had no obligation to keep helping. 

“Janus.”

“I couldn’t reach. Sometimes I couldn’t get it all off and it hardened back eventually.”

The silence then was stiff, tense. 

“Virgil--”

“Don’t. Just… we’ll try and fix it this time.”

“It’s  _ not  _ your fault. Not at all.”

Virgil scoffed, starting to scrub Janus’s shoulder again. 

“Virgil…”

“Can we just drop it? It is what it is and we have to deal with it.”

Janus didn’t really agree, but he still nodded. “Is your hand alright?”

“It’s fine. I patched it up while you were asleep.”

There was another silence, much less comfortable now. 

“Have you found any new music recently? Or still all that old emo stuff?” Janus asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Virgil chuckled. “Oh, no, I found  _ new  _ emo stuff.”

“Still just as bad?”

“You mean just as good! Here, I’ll play some.”

Janus smiled. 

  * •^*^••



It had taken many more hours than Virgil had remembered, but by the evening most of Janus’s old skin had been shed. His back, though, was still a major concern. It was nearly an inch all the way around of hardened skin, with one ‘island’ of it right in the spot no one can reach on their own back. No matter how much Virgil had scrubbed, it seemed immovable. And Janus had been nearly dropping off to sleep multiple times, woken by Virgil pushing too hard at a sensitive spot. 

Finally, he had to admit defeat, at least for a time, and let Janus go to sleep. Though Janus seemed happy to struggle against the exhaustion and stay awake, as long as Virgil was there. It was… hard. He’d never considered how much Janus might have missed him. Of course, he’d thought about it, but he assumed that Janus had wanted him to leave, and maybe he had. He just… he realized that he’d missed Janus too. A lot. And despite not regretting his decision to leave, he felt like he’d missed out on a lot he would have wanted. He could’ve, and probably should’ve, at least visited. 

But at least there was now. And though things weren’t quite right between them, they could get there. 

Virgil looked into the closet, and pulled out an extra blanket, his eyes tearing up a bit at seeing that Janus still kept a purple extra blanket next to the green, even after all this time. 

He wrapped up in the blanket and laid on the floor. Janus’s carpet was still plenty thick and soft enough for one night. And it would probably only be one night. By tomorrow night, he hoped to have helped Janus get rid of that built up skin on his back and settle him comfortably enough that Virgil could go to his own room for the night, and come back the next morning, and hopefully by then he could come back with food, and Janus would feel up to eating. 

  * \- -



But the next morning he woke to Janus tossing and turning, having dampened the bed with sweat, his fever back with a vengeance, and not responding to him, or at least not the way he’d hoped. Janus had flinched away from him at the first touch, fear apparent all over his face, and tears starting to slip down his cheeks. He tried weakly to hit Virgil, but his movements were far too sluggish. The attempted bite never got close to touching him. 

“Janus, it’s just me, it’s Virgil. You’re ok. No one’s going to hurt you.” He tried to stop Janus from flailing, and Janus choked on a terrified sob, curling in on himself and covering his head with his arms. 

Virgil’s stomach turned. He needed help. He didn’t know what to do anymore.

He unlocked the door. “Patton!”

It was mere moments before Patton came running up, concern clear on his face even from the end of the hallway. “What is it? Are you ok?”

“I’m-- I’m fine, but Janus isn’t.”

Patton nodded firmly, his determination to help not wavering in the slightest from hearing that it was Janus. “What happened?”

Virgil let Patton inside. “You can’t just touch him though. He can’t see and he isn’t recognizing me.”

“He can’t  _ see? _ ”

Virgil nodded. “I know this is going to be a lot, but that isn’t actually the problem. The problem is that he has a really high fever, and I don’t know why.”

Patton’s eyes went wide, and he had to take a second, and then nodded. “Ok. Have you given him any medicine?”

Virgil shook his head. 

“Who—who’s there?” Janus asked, his voice shaking pitifully. 

“It’s Virgil. It’s Virgil and Patton.” Virgil said, reaching out to touch the tips of his fingers and then rest his hand over Janus’s. 

Janus clenched his hand into a fist and pulled it away, still ‘staring’ straight ahead, as if he hadn’t heard anything Virgil said. 

Patton got back then with a bottle. “I figured if he won’t recognize us we won’t be able to get him to take a pill.” He poured out some medicine into the little cup. 

“Are you sure it’s the right one?” Virgil asked. 

Patton nodded. “It’s a fever reducer.”

“How do we get him to take it? He’ll try to bite us, and I think in this state he’d use his venom.”

Patton’s face creased in thought. Then his lips pursed into a tight line. “You hold him. If you deal with his arms I’ll get him to drink it.” 

They were both frowning very hard at each other now, neither wanting to scare Janus any more than he clearly was. But they needed to do  _ something  _ to help him. 

Virgil climbed up on the bed, already murmuring apologies as he wrapped his arms around Janus’s chest, holding his arms down. Janus very understandably was flipping out, thrashing weakly, and trying to bite Virgil. 

Patton grabbed his chin, and suddenly Janus went slack, tears silently running down his face in streams. 

“Ok. You can let him go now.” 

Virgil let Janus go, pain stabbing through him as Janus scooted away from him immediately, curling in on himself. He’d never seen Janus so scared, and it hurt. 

“He should be falling asleep again in a few minutes,” Patton said, his face perfectly stiff, but pale as a sheet. “Now  _ what  _ is going on?”

Virgil only registered that he was shaking when his voice came out quavery. “He’s shedding, but something’s wrong. I-I don’t know what, exactly, but the shed isn’t doing right, and he had a fever yesterday, but I thought it was going down!”

Patton took a deep breath in and out, and Virgil tried to copy him. 

“Ok. His scales look pretty new from what I can see, are there any more?”

Virgil nodded. “There’s patches on his back where the skin hasn’t come off for a bunch of sheds, and it’s all thick and hard.”

Patton nodded very slowly, and his chin trembled, but he took in a deep breath again. “Alright. He’s falling asleep now. Call me again when he wakes up, I’ll try to think of ideas, ok?”

Virgil nodded. 

Patton stood up on shaky legs and left the room. 

Virgil sat down on the floor, tears suddenly trickling down his cheeks. 

  * •^*^••



When Janus woke, almost immediately Virgil was grabbing his hand, a bit tighter than was comfortable. 

“Janus?” Virgil said, his voice shaking. 

“What happened?” Janus asked, squeezing his hand. 

Virgil let out a sudden sigh that was nearly a sob, dropping his head down onto Janus’s hand. 

“What happened?!”

“Your fever spiked, and you weren’t hearing me, and you might have been hallucinating too.”

Janus squeezed his hand again. “I’m alright now.”

He felt Virgil nod against his hand. “Oh! I told Patton I’d get him when you woke up. He helped to get you to take medicine. Maybe you should take more. He’ll know.”

Janus felt a rush of panic that he quickly shoved down. He was… he was fine now. He would have to trust that this would stay fine. 

Virgil let go of his hand, running to the door and calling Patton before running back and grabbing his hand again. 

Janus fought not to stiffen as the door opened again. “Hello, Patton.”

“Hey, Janus. Feeling any better?”

“It seems so.”

Patton chuckled in a not very amused way. Then he took in a deep breath. “Well, I had an idea for getting those old sheds off your back.”

Janus nodded slowly. “What would that be?” 

“Well,” Patton said slowly, sounding nervous. “If it’s thick and hard, then it might be like a callous or like a hangnail, and people kind of… like cut or grate those off.”

Janus did stiffen then. “That… might make some sense…”

“Would you let me try Jan?” Virgil asked. “I swear I’d be careful.”

It was two against one. And the worst of it was that Janus couldn’t sense any malice from either of them. 

He swallowed hard, and nodded. But he couldn’t handle the thought of rolling over and just laying limp for it. He pulled his hand out of Virgil’s and slowly pushed himself up until he was sitting with his back exposed. 

There were a few small sounds, and he gripped the blankets hard. 

There was a small touch on his arm, moving to his back, and Virgil’s hand rested flat and still there. 

“Ok. Patton gave me a cuticle trimmer. I’m just going to tap this middle bit, and you tell me if you can feel it, ok?”

Janus stiffened again, but nodded. 

And honestly, he barely felt the thing. 

“It does feel like a callous,” he said. “I can feel the pressure, but I can’t actually feel the thing.”

“Ok,” Virgil said. “Then I’m going to try cutting the edge.”

Again, Janus didn’t feel hardly anything. 

“If that got some off, then keep going.”

He heard their relieved sighs, and was glad that at least they were nervous too. 

It felt…  _ very  _ strange, as Virgil continued. But it didn’t hurt. And then he got too close to his scales, and picked carefully with his fingernails, the last of the old, dead skin peeling off in one piece. Janus slumped forward, unaware of just how badly it had been affecting him until it was gone, and it felt so,  _ so  _ much better. 

“Are you alright?!” Virgil asked. 

Janus’s answer was just a moan. 

“I think he’s fine,” Patton said, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Let’s help these edges and let him go back to sleep.”

Between the two of them, clipping the stiff old parts, and using the scrubber again closer to the live skin, it didn’t take long before Janus was falling asleep, feeling as if a massive weight had been taken off of him. 

  * \- -



When Janus next woke, he felt blessedly rested. And hungry. And not sore any longer. He rubbed his eyes, and thick, soft, milky-white scales came off. It was over. It was finally over! 

He sat up, and saw Virgil and Patton curled up together on the floor. 

Virgil shifted almost immediately, as if sensing that he was awake. “Janus!”

That woke up Patton, and Janus felt rude for having woken them both, especially since they’d spent so much time helping him already. 

“Don’t you dare!” Patton said, glaring at him. “I see what you’re thinking, and don’t you dare! You are our  _ friend _ , and we’d stay up  _ many _ more nights before we  _ ever _ let you feel that bad again!”

Virgil nodded very decisively. 

Janus didn’t know what to say. There was not even the slightest hint of a lie from either of them. “Thank you.”

This, of course, sparked a group hug, but Janus found that he didn’t mind that one bit. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
